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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879606">Happy Birthday, Harry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remustrash/pseuds/Remustrash'>Remustrash</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Remus Lupin's Existential Crises [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Existential Angst, Existential Crisis, Gen, Harry Potter's Birthday, M/M, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:29:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remustrash/pseuds/Remustrash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's July 31st, 1980, and somewhere in a little magic village Harry Potter is being born.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Remus Lupin's Existential Crises [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644652</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Happy Birthday, Harry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I decided to include this work and my previous one in a series of short-one shots called "Remus Lupin's Existential Crises" because apparently I enjoy making myself cry over Remus' tragic life. Enjoy, I guess.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's July 31st, 1980, and somewhere in a little magic village Harry Potter is being born. Remus stares at the rain as he taps his cigarette two times against the railing before taking another drag. The sky seems to be falling apart, pouring out every last drop, and he can't help feeling that maybe this will never end, that God or whoever is finally tired of the war and the death and the pain and all the bullshit humans have put this world through, and has decided to rain on them until they all drown. Yet Remus knows not even that would stop them. It might slow everything down, yes, maybe push people into a temporary truce, but it wouldn't stop them from betraying each other as soon as the sun comes out again. Because that's what's worse than war itself, worse than death and pain: betrayal. Even thinking of it makes a chill run down Remus' spine. He is too young to know real betrayal, and yet he feels it all the time. He feels it every time he returns late from a mission to find Sirius waiting for him, ready to ask questions he wouldn't have asked before. He feels it in every one of Sirius' suspicious looks, every rough kiss, every push and tug of his lover's hands. He feels it when he steps into a room and James goes silent, a forced smile on his lips, spilling jokes that don't make sense just to fill the air. He feels it when Lily stops mid sentence and regrets what she was about to say, when she reaches for a hug but doesn't hold him as tight as before. He feels it when Peter doesn't reply to his letters, not even with a happy birthday, not even when Remus sounds desperate. He feels it in his bones when for the first time in years, he spends the full tied up and alone. </p><p>Now he is here, far away from the others in this hot summer night thinking of a baby that will open his eyes to a family that doesn't include him. And isn't that just something he should have seen coming? Hogwarts was over, after all, and they were forced into tiny apartments and unstable jobs and missions that might kill them once or twice a day, because they had somehow crossed the line into adulthood without any kind of consent from their part. The war kept rising and it didn't feel like an adventure anymore. People he knew were killing each other. They were betraying each other. They were desperate and scared and needed to blame someone for all that was happening, so they chose Remus. He gets it, really. He's the easy answer, the comfortable one. If one of them is a spy then it better be the one who turns into a murderous creature once a month and has had a more miserable life than the ordinary poor man, because if not him, who? No one else fits the role: not happy, optimistic James, nor proud, brave Lily. Not loyal, reckless Sirius nor kind, selfless Peter. But depressive, unstable Remus? Perfect. He practically handed himself over in a plate.</p><p>The rain is not stopping and now thunder can be heard in the distance. It reminds him of whenever James and Sirius would make something explode at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. He would be part of the prank, of course: always the mind behind every scheme, but silent, unrecognised. They never cared to sign his name, allegedly because he was a prefect and they wanted to protect him. He feels stupid now, because he believed them. Always. He believed James when he came up with the idea of becoming animagi to help Remus, which now he could clearly see was only another way for them to have fun breaking the rules. Worst of all: he believed Sirius. He believed Sirius when he sneaked into Remus' bed at night, touched him and held him and whispered sweet words in his ear. How stupid was he, believing love would come so easily exactly from the place he most wanted it to come from? </p><p>He feels his eyes well up and closes his left hand in a tight fist. For the first time in forever he wishes it were a full tonight, so that he could break, bite, scratch, even kill without guilt and pain embracing his weak human heart. This is what they've done to him. As he looks up again at the raging storm, he knows he did the right thing by not going to the hospital. He knows, deep down, that he deserves what's come his way. So he wipes the tears away and lights another cigarette, cursing under his breath and wishing Harry Potter a happy birthday. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I promise I'll answer every comment soon. Thank you for each and every one because they make me so so happy!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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